Sharp, sour, but oh-so-sweet
like these suckers sticking to our palms;
green streaks on the knees of our jeans and
clomps of dirt stuffed down each other's
shirt.

Reckless smiles with split lips and black eyes
with blue rings I might fall into and
never come up for air.

Our first kiss, lips-on-lips,
grape-flavored and juicy like a feast
at a fairy ball. My fingers rake through
his black-brown hair, nails scraping
russet skin. It was just an accident,
this international exchange of spit,
but I'm pissed - and the heat isn't just
from anger.

My first love -

My last love -

We never spoke together again, though
he was a minute's walk away. On the
patio, he looks at me - waves. I turn,
eyes closed. I can't stay. We're moving
today.

My first love -

My last love -

The pain never fades.